Silver and Gold
by alittlelucky
Summary: Miguel thought things were going to go back to the way they were, but maybe he was wrong. Will giving Tulio yet another chance mean great adventure, or great disaster?
1. Chapter 1

"Wake up! Wake up!" the guard called out in a bored tone, banging his baton against the cell bars as he moved down the hall. Miguel opened his eyes slowly, his first thoughts filled with regret that he had, in fact, woken up once again.

Two months he'd been here, locked up with other petty criminals, because he'd been unable to pay a small fine. He hadn't even really wanted that bread that he was caught stealing, but stress, fatigue and the wine he'd lifted earlier that day had made him reckless and landed him here in jail. Until he was able to pay the set fine, a frustrated judge who'd seen him too often, had said. Miguel had tried to argue, to ask the judge how he was supposed to get the money to pay the fine if he was locked up, but the judge had simply said it was not his concern, and ended the hearing.

More noise came from the hallway as the guards lined the prisoners up to go to mess. Miguel considered refusing to go. After all, the point of their daily gruel rations was to keep them alive, which wasn't really something he was keen on any longer. After lying there a moment longer, however, the hunger pains in his stomach won out and Miguel got stiffly to his feet. As miserable as life had been lately, self-starvation was something he just didn't have the willpower for.

He didn't speak to his cellmates as they waited for the guard to let them out. They rarely spoke at all. At mess, talking wasn't allowed. They were only taken out into the exercise yard about once a week and the prisoners were quiet there, too.

How strange it was, Miguel thought, to be so lonely despite literally never being alone.

Back in his cell after mess, Miguel sat on the hard wooden shelf that served as his bunk. He stared down at the floor in front of him and let his mind wander. It wandered back, back to when he used to be happy. Was he really happy then? He had though so at the time but now he wasn't so sure.

His thoughts skipped forward a little, to the last time he thought he really was happy. To El Dorado. He'd never told anyone about it. They'd never believe him anyway. When he had returned to Spain none of his old street buddies had even asked where he'd been. They weren't the type of people that cared. They hadn't even noticed – or if they had noticed, they didn't care – that when he returned, for the first time, Miguel was by himself. Miguel's brow furrowed, his jaw tensed, as his thoughts turned darker, but his reverie was interrupted.

"Perez?" the guard who had just appeared outside the cell, asked. Miguel glanced up, surprised to hear his surname. "Miguel Perez?" the guard asked.

Miguel nodded.

"Come with me," the guard said, unlocking the door.

Miguel was about to ask where they were going but realized he didn't care. His cellmates watched silently as he followed the guard away, down the hall, through one set of locked doors, then another, each closed securely by another guard as they passed. They stopped in a small, mostly empty room. Another guard sat at a small desk. The first guard, the one who had taken Miguel from his cell, now tugged his arm to bring him to stand in front of the desk.

"Are you Miguel Perez?" the seated guard asked, reading off a book in front of him.

"Yes. What--" Miguel began, confused, but the guard cut him off.

"Sign here," he said, spinning the book around and pushing it toward Miguel. With a quill he indicated the place to sign. Miguel leaned forward and recognized the ledger he had been made to sign when he was brought in to the jail. The guard was now pointing to a blank space in the next column over, under the heading, _Release_.

"I'm getting out?" Miguel asked, even more confused. Next to where he was being told to sign, the ledger read, _Fine paid in full_.

"Hurry it up," the guard said, wiggling the quill impatiently. Miguel took it and quickly signed his name. As soon as he handed the quill back, a bundle of clothes, the ones he'd been wearing when he was brought in, were shoved into his arms and he was sent behind a curtain in the corner of the room to change.

A few moments later, Miguel emerged from the front door of the jail, blinking furiously against the sun that he was no longer used to. He stopped and took a deep breath. He was a free man. He took a few tentative steps away from the jail, still perplexed by what had just happened. Then, from behind him, someone called his name. He turned slowly back toward the jail, expecting to see a guard there to take him back inside. But there was no guard. Only a very familiar dark-haired man, leaning against the building as though waiting for someone.

_A/N: What do you think, worth continuing? Let me know! This has been knocking around my head for a while and finally written down out of lack of anything better to do. Title subject to change :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Miguel looked at the man coldly for a moment then turned away again, all in silence.

"What, not even a hello?" the dark haired man said, sounding slightly nervous.

"Hello. Goodbye," said Miguel, continuing to walk away.

"That's it? That's all you've got to say?" the man said, now sounding offended. Miguel whirled back around.

"What else do you want me to say, Tulio?" he demanded icily.

"How about, 'thanks for springing me from jail'?" Tulio said, trying a new tactic – humor – now that Miguel had stopped walking away for a moment. Miguel wasn't biting.

"Right. Thanks." He began to turn away again. Tulio grabbed his shoulder.

"Miguel, I'm sorry," Tulio said, as sincerely as possible, looking his friend directly in the eyes.

"You should be." This wasn't going the way Tulio had hoped. He had messed up before and good old Miguel had always forgiven him but maybe this time he had finally pushed Miguel too far.

"Can we talk? Please?" It was taking everything Tulio had in him to be as humble and nice as he possibly could. Miguel shrugged and resumed his walking away, but not as briskly this time. Tulio took this as a good sign and fell into step beside him.

"Look, Miguel, I really am sorry. I know I messed up big. Chel— "

Miguel cut him off. "I'm really not interested in hearing about _her_! You ditch me, _twice_, to run off with her and you think the minute I get out of jail I want to hear what dear old Chel's been up to?" He shook his head angrily and quickened his pace. Tulio kept up with him.

"That's just it, I don't know what she's been up to either, she took off on me the minute we got to Barcelona," he said quietly.

"Oh, so that's why you came back! The woman runs off so suddenly I'm good company again?"

Miguel's voice rose slightly with anger. For a brief second, Tulio had the urge to smile. Sure, Miguel hated his guts right now and was yelling at him, but at least they were together, and that was the first step at putting things right. Then Tulio sobered again.

"That's not it at all," he said with remorse that he really did feel, for once. "What I did was inexcusable. All I can say is that I was thinking with parts other than my brain…" (At this, Tulio thought he saw the corners of Miguel's mouth twitch and again fought the urge to smile) "…and I know I really hurt you and I'm very, very sorry."

Miguel stared at him, his face blank. He sounded sincere but Tulio was a conman through and through, just like himself. When Tulio had abandoned him for Chel – again – he wasn't as hurt as he had been the first time. It was almost as if he had expected it to happen. He had been angry, though. Angry at Tulio, of course, for being such a jerk but also angry at himself for allowing himself to be taken advantage of again.

But then he spent two months in jail pondering his life. After so much reflection he realized he didn't know if he had been truly happy with Tulio in the first place but they certainly were the most interesting times of his life.

If he couldn't even figure out when he was or wasn't happy, why shouldn't he at least have some entertainment?

Miguel stopped walking. Without meaning to, he had wandered down a few side streets, right back to the old disused storage building where many "street folk" often stayed, including himself and Tulio at times. He glanced around, realizing where he had unintentionally led them. A humorless smirk came to his face.

"I guess this might be one of those signs that always seem to come at exactly the wrong moment," he said.

Tulio couldn't think of anything to say that he was sure wouldn't jeopardize his chances of getting back in Miguel's good graces, so he said nothing. Miguel flopped down on one of the old overturned crates outside the building's door. There was another crate next to him that he shoved further away with his foot. Tulio sat down on it and Miguel looked at him, less coldly this time. "I haven't forgiven you yet, you know," Miguel said.

Tulio sighed. "I know."

"But…I have been locked up for two months and bored for a lot longer," Miguel went on.

"Yeah?" said Tulio, excited to see a bit of humor come back to Miguel's face.

"Yeah, and I'm in dire need of a proper adventure." Miguel raised his eyebrows at Tulio challengingly. Tulio grinned.

"I'll see what I can do."


	3. Chapter 3

Tulio lay awake, staring up at the dark ceiling of the storage building.

"Adventure…adventure…" he whispered to himself, wracking his brain.

He felt like he had better come up with something fast, before Miguel changed his mind about this reunion. Nearby, but pointedly not too near, Miguel was asleep. Reflecting his true forgiving nature he had conceded to wander around the city a little bit with Tulio and even talk some, though not as warmly as usual, before coming back to the storage building to sleep. However, after a few other streeters showed up after dark, Miguel had gone to sit with them and chatted quite openly. Clearly, Tulio wasn't out of the doghouse yet. Tulio glanced over at his sleeping friend. He couldn't see him very well except for a bit of his blond hair where light from one of the high windows caught it. Still, Tulio knew Miguel was wearing the clothes he had grabbed off a line for him, although that was probably more because his old ones had been torn and threadbare than anything else. Still, it was something.

Tulio sighed. Adventure. It wasn't something you could simply conjure up on demand. He sat up and felt in his pocket. He still had a little money left. Maybe in the morning he could get them a ride out into the country to see Altivo. Miguel had told him, after he had stupidly asked where that dumb old horse was, that he had given Altivo to a farmer on the outskirts of town because he knew the horse wouldn't do well in the city. Maybe going to see Altivo would please Miguel enough to buy Tulio some more time to come up with something exciting. Although, with his luck, Tulio thought cynically, the damn horse had probably died and it would be the final straw for Miguel. Tulio fell asleep, no closer to an answer.

He awoke late the next morning. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. Then it came to him. Getting to his feet quickly, he looked around. There was no one but him in the large, open room. Miguel had gone. Tulio was standing dumbly, wondering what to do, when the sound of voices came in to him from the direction of the back door. The voices were followed by laughter. Familiar laughter. Miguel hadn't left after all. Suddenly Tulio felt very stupid for panicking. But it wasn't an unjust feeling. Miguel had every right and reason to up and leave, Tulio thought. After all, hadn't he done just that to Miguel?

Tulio walked to the back door that opened out onto a small walled-in area where guard dogs used to be kept during the day.

"It's about time you got up!" Miguel called as Tulio emerged from the doorway. He was sitting cross-legged while another sometimes resident of the storage house, a young man named Alano, attempted to cut Miguel's hair with what looked like a small dagger.

"How's it looking?" asked Miguel as Tulio approached.

"Umm…very…cutting edge?" Tulio offered, walking around behind Miguel to look at the back.

"It's a work in progress," Alano said, as he used the blade to saw off another chunk of Miguel's long blond hair.

"I can see that," said Tulio.

Some of the overgrown hair had been returned to its usual chin length, other pieces were quite a bit shorter and no two sections were the same length. When Alano moved the blade away, Miguel reached up and ran his hand through his hair. He laughed.

"Maybe we should just burn it all off and start fresh?" he suggested.

"It'd be fine if I just had a sharper knife," Alano said, attacking a new section.

"Why don't you just bunch it all up and chop it off at once instead of bit by bit? That way it'd all be the same length at least," Tulio said.

Alano froze, mid-hack. "That would work," he admitted, frowning. Miguel laughed again.

"See, this is why you're the one with all the plans!" he said, looking back at Tulio. For the first time in quite a while, Tulio smiled. Things were starting to feel the way they used to. Now if he only really did have a plan.

With an exaggerated sour look at Tulio for his ill-timed good suggestion, Alano gathered Miguel's hair up in a ponytail and pulled it taut with one hand. With the other he used the old knife to slowly saw through the hair. Soon Alano was waving around the ponytail and Miguel had a semi-neat new haircut. Mercifully, Miguel hadn't needed to use the dull blade on any facial hair as prisoners were kept clean shaven at the jail for identification and hygienic purposes.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Alano asked, brandishing his handful of hair at Miguel, who had stood up and was now trying to brush all the stray hairs off his clothing.

"Uhh, you can keep it," he said, pulling off his shirt and shaking it out.

"Gee, thank you," Alano said, dropping the hair on the ground.

"It looks like someone murdered a blonde cat back here," Tulio commented.

Miguel, who was now performing a wild dance trying to get the last of the itchy hair off himself, was too busy to answer.

"Here, let me help," Tulio said as Miguel nearly toppled over. Miguel stepped closer, still trying to slap at his own back.

"Hurry up, it itches like hell," Miguel complained.

"Hold still," said Tulio. He brushed off Miguel's back and shoulders quickly. Still surprised Miguel was acting this friendly again, he didn't want to push his luck.

"If you no longer require my grooming services, I'll be heading out," Alano said.

"OK, thanks, Al," Miguel said, his voice muffled as he pulled his shirt back on.

Alano nodded. "I'll put this back in case Tulio needs a haircut later," he said, jabbing the old dagger back into the wooden doorframe as he walked back into the storage building, headed for the street out front. When he was gone, Miguel turned to Tulio.

"So, what are we gonna do?" he asked.

Tulio's spirits dropped a little. He had hoped Miguel would give him a few days to come up with something.

"Jump in barrels and see where we wind up?" Tulio joked. Miguel made a face.

"OK, just kidding. Umm, I've been hearing a lot about this fountain of youth thing lately, some guy named Leon or something's been traipsing all over the New World looking for it," Tulio said, taking a wild stab.

"The Fountain of Youth?" Miguel said skeptically. "What, do you think we should go track it down and become rich and famous?"

"Well…no. I was reaching there," Tulio admitted.

"Good," Miguel said, smiling. "You know, I heard that guy's really after the fountain because he thinks it'll cure him of a certain dysfunction."

Tulio laughed. "OK, I'll keep thinking. Meantime, shall we go find some food?"

Miguel nodded. They walked through the storage building and set off onto the street together, exactly the way they so often had years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

Returning to the storehouse near dark, Miguel and Tulio wandered out back again.

"Getting cold…wanna build a fire?" Miguel asked, kicking aside a charred log from the fire pit.

"Yeah, good idea. But first…this has been bothering me all day," said Tulio, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small knife that he had grabbed along the course of their wanderings that day and approached Miguel with it. Miguel stepped back.

"What're you doing?" he asked nervously.

Tulio paused, realizing he was approaching Miguel with a raised knife.

"Sorry," he laughed, "Alano missed a chunk, that's all."

"Oh, alright," said Miguel, running a hand through his hair. He stepped closer to Tulio and allowed him to cut the offending hair.

"That's better," Tulio said, shaking his hand to let the hairs fall.

"Can't imagine that little bit was bothering you. The whole thing's a hack-job," Miguel said.

"Nah, it's not bad," Tulio replied, " It's probably fashionable somewhere."

"Yeah, somewhere very dark!" Miguel laughed. He ran his hand through his hair again. "Wanna gather up some of that wood? I think there might be a tinderbox inside somewhere. I'll go check," he said.

Tulio watched Miguel disappear into the storage house before grabbing a few logs and stacking them in the fire pit. The sound of Miguel tossing things around inside the large empty building came drifting out to him. Apparently he was having difficulty finding the tinderbox. After another moment or two of searching, Miguel shouted triumphantly and appeared in the doorway holding the tinderbox.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back," Tulio joked.

Miguel shook his head and grinned.

"Look what else I found!" he said, holding out his hand. On his palm rested a very battered die. Tulio recognized it immediately.

"Is that Old Lucky Six?!" he exclaimed, rushing forward.

Miguel shook the die in his hand and dropped it on the ground. It landed six-side up.

"Wow," Tulio said, picking it up and dropping it again.

"Would've been even better if Saul hadn't paired it with a two."

"Oh, old Saul. What an idiot," said Tulio. "What ever happened to him?"

"Last I knew there were a few ugly babies around and a couple of angry husbands looking for him."

Tulio picked up the die and held it up. "Well, here's to him!" he said, setting it on top of the doorframe.

Miguel went over to the fire pit and knelt down to light the fire. Tulio settled down on the ground and watched. After a few minutes and a mumbled curse or two, Miguel had a fire going.

"I think that's a new record. I didn't even get a chance to freeze to death before you got it started this time," Tulio teased.

"Ha ha. You're_hilarious_. That joke will never stop being funny. Really. I'm serious," Miguel said sarcastically, settling down across the fire from Tulio.

They chatted at the fireside for a while before small talk ran out and a silence fell. A silence that was heavier than it used to be. Miguel had been quite friendly all day but Tulio felt like there was still some tension in the air that needed clearing up. He still felt like he owed Miguel a better explanation, a better apology, something that would lighten things up and make them the way they used to be. He knew that in time things might be able to go back to normal but Tulio was not a patient man; he wanted things to be right, and now. Right was the way things used to be, before everything. Back when they were able to sit quietly for hours and not feel the need to talk to fill the void but to just be able to enjoy each other's company, that was right. He fidgeted, feeling the need to say _something_. He cleared his throat.

"Miguel, I— ," he began.

"Don't. Please," Miguel said quietly from across the fire, his eyes focused on the flames. He looked up and his mouth quirked with a half-smile. "Let's skip the Tulio-feels-the-need-to-clear-things-up part."

Tulio stared at him, surprised. "How did you know-?"

Miguel smiled in the flickering light. "You've been about to say something all day. I'm sure it wasn't that my hair was uneven."

Tulio chuckled. "You're right."

"Of course I am. So, let's avoid getting you all blushy and just pretend you've already said something very nice and eloquent." Miguel got up and moved off into the darkness to grab another piece of firewood, leaving Tulio to stare after him. He came back carrying a roughly split log.

"OK?" he asked, leaning over and setting the log on top of the fire.

Tulio grinned. "Alright."

Miguel sat down beside Tulio and picked up the long stick they had been using as a fire poker. He prodded the fresh log to settle it in place., but instead knocked the whole thing over. Frowning, Miguel handed the poker to Tulio and sat back, crossing his arms.

"Stupid fire," he said.

Still grinning, Tulio pushed the flaming logs back into a pile, feeling much better. He, too, sat back and folded his arms, making Miguel laugh. Again they lapsed into silence, but a much easier one than before.

Soon the fire began to die down again.

"Your turn," Miguel said, having stretched his legs out and made himself quite comfortable.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tulio got up and groped his way to the woodpile in the dark to fetch another log. When he came back, Miguel had sat up again. As Tulio sat back down, he leaned forward.

"Crazy stuff, though, right? All that," Miguel said.

Tulio looked at him uncertainly. Hadn't they just cleared everything up?

"El Dorado, I mean," Miguel clarified, correctly interpreting Tulio's look.

Inwardly Tulio breathed a relieved sigh. "Yeah, really. Seriously."

"I never told anyone about it," said Miguel reflectively.

"Nobody'd believe you if you did!"

Miguel laughed. "Exactly. Too bad we couldn't have brought back a little gold to prove it."

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the gold-grubber here!" Tulio said.

"Oh yeah…" Miguel trailed off, picking up the stick to poke the fire again.

Suddenly, a clattering thud sounded from the darkness behind them. They both turned around quickly, trying to see what it was. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness they saw a bulging canvas bag lying on the ground near the base of the courtyard wall. A few seconds later, Alano landed neatly next to it as he dropped down off the wall.

"Evening," he said, apparently unaware that his entrance had startled them both. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" he teased, picking up the sack and walking over to them. Used to Alano's teasing, they ignored the question.

"What's all that junk?" Miguel asked as Alano upended the sack and dumped a variety of objects out on the ground.

"Winnings. Bounty," Alano replied, looking over his prizes.

"Looks like a lot of junk," said Tulio.

"Ah, not all of it," Alano said, moving aside some belts, tankards and knives, he revealed quite a few gold and silver coins that had been mixed in. He scooped up the coins and dropped them into a pouch tied to his belt. "OK, a lot of it's junk," he admitted.

"New scam?" Tulio asked, picking up a cheap metal chain from the pile and examining it critically.

"Yup. Fairly good one, too," Alano said, settling to the ground next to his winnings.

Tulio dropped the chain back into the pile.

"Loaded dice?" he asked.

"No, that's old fashioned!" Alano laughed. "Besides, everyone checks for that around here now, thanks to _certain people_." He turned his head dramatically to look at Tulio, who, unlike Miguel, did not laugh.

"Much better than that,"he continued, producing three large walnut shells from his pocket. "Loaded shell game. Magnets," he supplied in answer to their confused looks. He pulled a marble from inside one of the shells and let it drop back in with a snapping noise. "All you gotta do is give the table a little 'accidental' tap and boom, can't find the pea."

"That's pretty good," Tulio said, looking impressed.

"I thought so," Alano said, placing his hands behind his head.

"If you want a bunch of belts and crusty old cups," Miguel added.

"Hey, that's all they had left to bet with when I was done with 'em!" Alano replied, defensively.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot, I was just joking!" Miguel said.

Tulio shook his head. He was used to Miguel and Alano's fake bickering. Alano had shown up at the storage house about a year before they had gone off on their adventure and he and Miguel had struck up a friendship immediately. To Tulio's dismay, their friendship involved amicable arguments and a lot of teasing and pranks whenever they got bored, often interrupting his tranquility.

Miguel was looking through the stash now. He picked up a worn out leather sheath and tossed it at Alano. "Here, that can match that grimy old dagger you gave me my new hair-do with!" Alano threw it back and missed. The sheath skittered off into the darkness beyond the fire.

So much for their peaceful evening.

"Hey, what's this?" Miguel said, picking up a roll of parchment.

"Garbage, that's what it is," Alano replied, making a face. "Some fat sailor wanted one more bet and that's all he had."

Miguel was unrolling the parchment. His eyes widened and he looked over at Tulio.

It was a map.

Tulio fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Some fat sailor, you say?"

"Yeah. Said it was a map to some, I don't know, I wasn't listening," Alano said in an uninterested tone. He was stretching out next to the fire, apparently ready for a nap.

Miguel, however, was looking it over avidly. "Tulio, look!" he whispered, showing him the map.

Tulio glanced over it quickly. It was quite faded but in the dim light he could see that the end destination was some kind of pond or body of water. He leaned closer, squinting at it, trying to read what it said. All he could make out was the word 'Youth'.

"The Fountain of Youth!" Miguel whispered excitedly. "It's a sign!"

"A sign of what?" Tulio whispered back.

"Destiny! Fate!" Miguel replied. "We were just talking about it, remember?"

"Miguel, if I believed in fate…" Tulio began, but stopped short when he caught Miguel's eye.

Tulio looked at Miguel's face for a moment, alive with excitement. He rubbed his chin.

He did owe him.

* * *

_Sooooo sorry this took so long to update! I've been so busy I just haven't had the time! I hope somebody's still reading this :) If anyone is, how bout a little input? Should I get a little more slashy or not (nothing graphic, of course!)? Anyway, I'll try not to take so long for the next update!_


	5. Chapter 5

The excitement vanished from Miguel's face as Tulio crossed his arms and sat down again. Tulio took a deep breath and let it out in a hard sigh.

"Alright. I'm in."

"Yes!" Miguel laughed, pumping his fist triumphantly. "All right!"

He sat down next to Tulio and looked the map over avidly. Apparently abandoning the idea of a nap for now, Alano propped himself up on his elbows.

"What, are you serious?" he said, raising an eyebrow at them.

Miguel was already muttering plans to himself and didn't hear. Tulio rubbed his forehead and tried to read the map in the dim firelight. It looked vaguely similar to the El Dorado map, but of course he had thought that was a complete fake at first anyway. A logical voice in the back of his mind was asking him what the odds of finding not only one but two authentic treasure maps in one lifetime were, but Miguel's grin and excited tone as he murmured phrases like "marsh region" and "pick axe" were enough to make him ignore the voice.

Unlike the voice, Alano didn't take kindly to being ignored. "Guys?" he said, sitting up further.

They still paid him no attention so he got up and walked over to them. He bent across the map so his face was level with theirs. He looked intently into Miguel's eyes for a moment then moved his glare to Tulio's, then he straightened up.

"You guys are messing with me," he said, folding his arms.

Tulio didn't know how to respond. He personally was inclined to think this map was a joke but like it or not, he was at least going to try to make the voyage happen. On the other hand, though, if Alano decided the map was real he might take it back and Miguel would be crushed. But before Tulio could decided how to answer, Miguel said, "No, it's real."

Alano laughed. "OK."

"I'm serious. I think this could really be it," Miguel said.

Alano laughed harder.

"No, look! It all makes sense. This is pretty much right where they're saying it all is! Right on this little tail thingy!"

He held the map out to show Alano but Alano was already nearly doubled over with laughter.

"OK! Stop! Stop!" he gasped, straightening up. He wiped at his eyes. "Oh, Miguel, I didn't know you were such an actor!"

Miguel frowned and pulled the map closer to him. His eyes roamed over it, searching for some sign that it was authentic. Tulio looked up at Alano, who was still smirking in a very irritating way.

"I believe it," he said steadily.

Alano's face sobered at this. Tulio had never been one to participate in their jokes and pranks.

"Really?" Alano asked.

"Really," replied Tulio. "The New World's full of amazing things. Why not this?"

Alano considered this for a moment. "Even if there is a Fountain of Youth, who's to say that this is really a map to it?"

Tulio shrugged. "Who's to say it isn't?"

"So you'll trek all over the New World just in case the map's not fake?"

Tulio nodded. "Pretty much."

"Yep," Miguel chimed in.

Alano threw up his arms in defeat. "Well, you guys are idiots. Good night."

He walked away in the direction of the storehouse door.

As his footsteps died away, Miguel folded the map carefully and stuffed it into his pocket, then moved closer to Tulio. He looked at Tulio with a mischievous smile.

"This is gonna be good."

"Yes," agreed Tulio, stretching and putting an arm around Miguel. "Yes it is."

Tulio awoke suddenly. It must have been several hours since he fell asleep because the fire had all but burned itself out. Only glowing embers remained in the fire pit. He raised himself up on an elbow and squinted around in the darkness, trying to figure out what had disturbed him. Next to him, Miguel slept on peacefully, his face partially covered by the hair that had fallen across it. Tulio gently pushed it back with one finger and was about to settling back down when a scuffling noise across the yard grabbed his attention.

He sat up straight, listening hard. While the storehouse was generally a safe-haven, it wasn't in the best part of town and visitors at such an early morning hour could not be assumed to have good intentions.

The noises moved closer. Heavy, clumsy footsteps. Definitely not Alano up for a midnight stroll. And low, raspy voice.

"He came this way, I know it!" said the voice in a poor attempt at a whisper.

Another voice, further away, answered. "You don't know that for sure! Come on, we shouldn't be back here!"

At this, Tulio got swiftly to his feet, grabbing the nearest large object, the fire poker stick. He walked back a few paces and circled around, away from the fire pit.

"But he has the map!" the first voice protested. It had moved further to the right, away from Tulio.

"You're the one who bet it!" the second voice responded, sounding like it was coming from above. On top of the wall, to be exact. Tulio moved toward it.

"He was a scammer! He didn't win it fair!" rasped the first man.

"It was junk anyway!" The man on the wall whispered, beginning to sound anxious.

There was no reply. The sound of the first man's footsteps had stopped and Tulio stared hard into the darkness, trying to determine where he'd gone.

"OK, I know it wasn't, but it's still not worth dying for! People have been killed around here!" The wall man pleaded, sounding almost desperate.

Tulio tightened his grip on the stick and focused even harder, trying to figure out where the intruder was when suddenly –

"Fine," the man growled from approximately three feet away.

It was so dark here at the base of the wall that neither he nor Tulio had seen one another and had apparently just missed colliding. Tulio shrank back away from the man and held his breath, hoping to avoid detection. He had suddenly realized that a partially burnt stick would be no match for a sword or dagger that the other man could potentially be carrying. Trying to stand perfectly still, Tulio hoped fervently that he didn't smell as bad as the other man did.

"Fine," he repeated. There was a scrabbling noise and some grunting. "But we're coming back this way to look when it's light out," he continued, the voice now coming from above. "I want that map."

The other man murmured his assent and there were two thuds as they dropped down on the other side of the wall. Tulio silently let out the breath he had been holding while he listened to the men's footsteps dying away.

As soon as he was sure they were gone, he rushed over to wake Miguel. If they wanted to keep that map and avoid trouble, they'd need to be moving before morning.

* * *

_Hey, Happy New Year and thanks to anyone that's still reading this! Bad news is, I think I've finally accepted the fact that I'm just a horribly slow updater. Good news is, I have another whole chapter ready to go, but I didn't wanna post them both at once and create unrealistic expectations. You know how it goes ;)_


	6. Chapter 6

"Miguel, wake up!" Tulio whispered, shaking him gently.

Miguel made a cranky sound and rolled over. Tulio shook him harder.

"Mmm-wha?" Miguel said groggily, opening one eye.

"Get up, we have to go," Tulio said, giving him another shake to make sure he didn't go back to sleep.

"Go? Where? It's sti-still dark," Miguel said through a yawn.

"Away from here. A couple of guys showed up a little while ago. They were looking for the map."

"They were?" Miguel asked, suddenly quite awake. "What did you tell them?"

"It was too dark, they didn't see us, but I overheard them saying they were after it. They knew Alano came this way and they're coming back in the morning."

Tulio glanced around anxiously. It seemed to him like the darkness was already lifting though he had no idea what time it really was. Miguel got up.

"Well, let's get going then! I don't wanna lose this thing!"

He patted his pocket where the folded map was stored. He was surprisingly chipper for someone who had just been woken up.

"OK," Tulio said, straightening up with a lot less bounce than his partner.

Dawn was definitely approaching, as there was enough light for Tulio to quickly scan the ground for anything they may have left behind before following Miguel toward the building. Miguel paused at the doorway to free the old dagger and stuff it into his belt.

"It makes me feel tough," he explained in answer to Tulio's raised eyebrows.

Tulio chose not to comment but walked past him through the door and into something quite solid. He made a sound of surprise when he realized he had bumped into a man. He did not know the man by sight, but had a sneaking suspicion he'd recognize the man's voice when he heard it. A dozen feet beyond him was a broad, stocky sailor Tulio did recognize, who happened to have Alano in a very firm headlock.

Tulio's exclamation grabbed the attention of Fat Sailor (as Tulio's rapidly working brain had already begun to refer to him as) but he did not release Alano. Instead, he tightened his hold on the young man and called to his partner, "Stop them!"

The partner, who had stumbled back from his collision with Tulio, now lunged forward and tried to grab Tulio's arms. Tulio was too quick for him and landed a solid punch on the man's jaw, sending him staggering back again, clutching his mouth. In the few seconds' pause before he attacked again, Miguel came in from the side and tripped him as he rushed forward. The attacker landed face first on the hard stone floor with a sickening crunch. He struggled to his feet, spitting out blood, took a look around at the assembled party and staggered toward the door, hand over his mouth.

"Where are you going?!" Fat Sailor demanded, only to be answered by an obscene gesture as his partner disappeared out the front door.

The Fat Sailor forced Alano to his knees and looked up at Miguel and Tulio from his bent over position.

"Stay where you are!" he ordered, giving Alano's neck another squeeze.

Alano made a strangled noise, his face very red in the growing light. He too looked up at them, eyes wide with fear.

"Let him go!" Miguel shouted, taking a step forward.

"I said don't move!" Fat Sailor shouted back, punctuating the command with another squeeze.

"Where is the map?" he demanded.

He was looking Tulio and Miguel over and didn't notice Alano pointing weakly at Miguel.

"What map?" Miguel asked scornfully, his tone suggesting that this was all a waste of his time.

"_My_ map. The one this scoundrel stole from me!"

Alano's face had darkened to a shade of burgundy.

"He had no map that I--" Miguel began.

"On a large piece of parchment?" Tulio interrupted.

The sailor nodded eagerly as Miguel's head snapped around to look at Tulio. Tulio looked him hard in the eyes, a silent signal, and Miguel understood.

"Oh, that big rolled up thing?" Miguel said airily.

"Yes! Where is it?" Fat Sailor loosened his stranglehold slightly in his excitement and Alano struggled for breath.

"That was a map?" Miguel said, laughter creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, I told you it was!" Tulio replied in an amused tone.

"Oh, dear," Miguel said, suddenly crestfallen. "I guess I should've found something else to use for kindling."

With a bellow of rage Fat Sailor threw Alano aside and launched himself toward them. In the same instant, Miguel pulled the dagger from his belt and threw it as hard as he could at the sailor. It hit him in the head and he dropped to the floor, knocked out cold.

"Whoa," Tulio said appreciatively.

"I couldn't do that again if I tried!" said Miguel, retrieving the dagger.

"Not sharp, but it's heavy!" he said, putting it back through his belt and going over to Alano, who lay gasping on the floor.

Seeing his face already returning to its normal color, Miguel was satisfied that he'd be OK.

"You gonna live?" he asked, prodding him with his toe.

Alano nodded and swiped weakly at his foot.

"Pity," said Tulio, earning himself the same gesture from Alano that the now unconscious sailor had gotten from his retreating partner. Yes, thought Tulio, Alano would be fine. And so they could get going.

"Come on," he said to Miguel, "I don't wanna be here when Fatty wakes up."

Alano struggled to a sitting position.

"So it was real, then?" he asked between deep breaths.

"Apparently. At least he thought so, anyway," Tulio replied, glancing at the sailor to make sure he wasn't stirring.

With his own glance at the knocked-out sailor, Miguel pulled the map from his pocket. He turned the folded parchment over in his hands, smiling.

"You said you burnt it!" Alano exclaimed, now sounding normal.

"Aww, did we tell a lie?" Miguel said in a mocking baby voice.

"And you fell for it!" Tulio scoffed. "I thought you were better than that!"

"It's kind of hard to tell someone's lying when you're being strangled to death," Alano said, rubbing his neck gingerly.

"Well, now that you're in survival town, we're gonna go," Tulio said, starting for the door.

"Where are you going?" Alano said, standing up.

"Away…before Fatty wakes up…did you miss that whole part of the conversation?"

Alano stepped forward.

"You can't just take off with my map."

Miguel shoved the map back into his pocket and opened his mouth to protest but Alano cut him off.

"Hey, I'm not trying to take it back," he said. "You guys saved my life."

Miguel's face relaxed.

"I wanna go with you."

Tulio's face did the exact opposite of relaxing.

* * *

_Wowee, new record for updating! This is because you fabulous readers motivated me with your kind words. Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone. They really make my day! A special thanks to the people who have reviewed several times, it's really great to hear from you!_


	7. Chapter 7

Fifteen minutes of fast walking and the trio had put enough distance between themselves sand the storehouse to feel safe enough to stop and figure out what they were actually doing. They had followed the road straight out of town and were now heading down a country lane, trees on either side, broken up by the occasional house.

"Let's stop here a bit, before we wind up in France," Miguel said, indicating an arbitrary clump of trees.

"It'd be Portugal, actually," Alano said, giving Miguel's shoulder a shove.

"Oh, whatever," Miguel replied, returning the shove.

"Children, please," Tulio said tersely before Alano could retaliate.

Miguel grinned and led the way into the woods. The trees weren't very dense so they walked about a hundred feet in before coming to a little clearing where they could stop and shape their plan. Alano gave Miguel another shove before flopping down on the grass.

Tulio sighed inwardly. If they didn't stop messing around, it was going to be a long trip. It wasn't that he didn't like Alano, really, it was just that – no, wait, he kind of didn't like Alano. There was no one specific reason, just that he found him irritating. Immature. Cocky. The way he'd showed up at the storehouse one day and was immediately as at-home as Tulio ever was, thou he'd been around the area for years longer. And the way he and Miguel would joke and mess around, like they had been best friends for years. Alano probably hadn't even noticed that Miguel was gone for over a year with no explanation. Some friend.

On the ground, Alano stretched his lanky body, making his shoulders pop and earning a "Gross!" from Miguel, which caused him to try and do it again. Thus occupied, he missed the dirty look Tulio threw him, but Miguel didn't. Miguel smiled at Tulio sympathetically as if to say, "I know" and Tulio quickly neutralized his face and sat down. He didn't want to start anything right now. Miguel joined them on the grass.

"So, now what?" he asked, looking at Tulio.

Tulio shrugged. "It's your map, you tell us."

Miguel frowned. Tulio was always the one with the plans.

"Um, technically, it's my map," Alano said.

Tulio looked over at him. "Ok, so what are we gonna do?"

"Go find the – what is it?" Alano glanced at Miguel.

"Fountain of Youth," Miguel supplied.

"Yeah, Fountain of Youth. We're gonna find that," said Alano.

"And how do you propose we do that?" asked Tulio.

"Using the map. Duh," Alano said, grinning at his own wit. Miguel laughed.

"Oh, alright, that shouldn't be hard, because we're in Spain and the Fountain's in the New World," Tulio said sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm only joking with you, don't get mad," Alano said. "Besides, I hear you're the brains of the operation. Miguel and I are just the pretty faces."

As though on cue, both Alano and Miguel puckered their lips and batted their eyelashes. Tulio groaned, clapped his hand over his eyes and flopped backwards. His companions laughed.

After a moment when he still didn't sit back up, he felt a hand on his foot.

"Come on, Tulio, we'll stop messing around," Miguel said gently.

"Yeah, sorry, we're past that now," Alano's voice chimed in.

He sounded sincere but Tulio knew better than to believe him. Still, he sat back up.

"OK. We need a boat," he said.

"Ooh, I know where we can find one of those!" Alano said.

"If you say 'the harbor' I will probably hit you," said Tulio.

"OK, never mind that, then."

"No, really, that's about the only place worth checking," said Miguel, grinning.

"Yeah, OK," Tulio conceded, "but how do we get on one?" 

Miguel shrugged. "I dunno. Last time we just sort of fell into it," he laughed.

Tulio grinned at the memory.

"Last time?" Alano asked, confused.

Miguel shook his head. "Maybe we'll tell you when you're older."

"No, tell me!" Alano whined.

Miguel and Tulio laughed as the younger man scowled, looking very childish.

Tulio ignored his pouting and spoke to Miguel.

"Say we do go down to the harbor, then. How do we get on a boat? We can't stow away. If we got caught…"

"Yeah, that whole flogging and brig thing wasn't great," Miguel agreed.

This piqued Alano's interest. "Flogging?" he asked eagerly, forgetting to pout.

Miguel wriggled his eyebrows teasingly.

"That part you're definitely not old enough to hear," Tulio said.

Alano's lip stuck out again. "I'm only a few years younger than you, I'm sure," he said.

Miguel looked at him, considering his dark features.

"Try like, ten. Or something. I don't know…you still don't get to hear about it."

"Oh, come on! Everyone can do with a good flogging story!" Alano said.

Tulio and Miguel exchanged an amused look.

"Mmmm….No," they said in unison.

Alano folded his arms. "I'll get it out of you eventually," he said challengingly.

Tulio shrugged again. "Maybe," he conceded. "Anyway…boat?"

They sat quietly, thinking, until Alano exclaimed, "Oh, I have it!"

Miguel and Tulio looked at him expectantly.

"I heard you guys talking last night about some guy. Poncho the Lion or something like that," he said.

"_Ponce de Leon_," Miguel corrected him, laughing.

"Whatever," Alano frowned.

"What about him?" asked Tulio.

"Well, he's headed to the New World to look for this fountain thing too!"

Tulio rolled his eyes. "That's not really helpful."

"I'm not done yet. He's sailing out of Barcelona in about a week. I heard some people talking about it the other day, and it was in the papers."

"That still doesn't really help us," Tulio said, shaking his head. "We already determined we can't stow away."

"No," Alano said somewhat testily, "but the thing in the paper I saw was a crew call. We could sign on and just sneak off once we get there."

Miguel's face brightened but quickly fell.

"We don't know how to sail," he said.

Now it was Alano's turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh yeah, if only we knew someone who spent half his life on a boat and had a week to teach you enough to bluff our way on to a crew."

Tulio and Miguel looked at him incredulously.

"You were a sailor?" Miguel asked.

"Yep. Ran away to be one when I was twelve." Alano smiled at the memory. "Thought I was gonna be a notorious pirate."

"And ended up a cabin boy?" Tulio suggested, smirking.

"Not quite," Alano replied. He rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "But after ten years I finally got it through my head that actually being a sailor is way less thrilling than all the stories make it sound and I quit."

"But you still remember how?" asked Miguel.

"Oh, certainly. It was only a few years ago. And I don't think you really forget something like that," Alano said, now looking very proud of himself.

Tulio looked at the other two uncertainly but Miguel was grinning.

"And you can teach us enough to get onto a crew?" Tulio asked.

"Probably so. They don't make you audition or anything. If you're asking for a job as a sailor they just assume you really are one."

"And once we're on the boat…?"

"You just better be fast learners," Alano said, with a cocky grin.

Tulio looked around at Miguel once more, who was still grinning, with that familiar look of excitement for an impending adventure on his face. Catching Tulio's eye, Miguel laughed.

"I like this. It could go really, really wrong!"

Tulio shook his head but smiled resignedly. "Without that potential, I guess it's not a proper adventure."

"Hear, hear!" Miguel said, getting to his feet. "Barcelona, eh?"

The other two followed suit.

"Barcelona," they agreed.

Miguel set off at a quick pace, back toward the road. He was standing in the middle of it by the time Alano and Tulio emerged from the woods.

"Which way is it?" Miguel asked.

Tulio shook his head again, still smiling, and took the lead, headed toward the Port.


	8. Chapter 8

"Do you really think this'll work?" Miguel whispered as the trio made their way through the crowded docks.

Tulio cleared his throat loudly. "It might."

A few steps ahead, Alano paused and turned back to them.

"It should. By now if they still need crew they'll take most anyone."

The trip to Barcelona had taken longer than expected and even though they'd hitched a cart ride part of the way, the ship they were hoping to sail on was scheduled to leave the very next day.

"Just follow my lead, and only talk if they ask questions. The less you run your mouths the better the chance they won't figure out you're bluffing," Alano said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Miguel, as Tulio tapped him on the shoulder and pointed through the crowd.

Miguel looked to where he was pointing and saw a massive, grand ship riding low in the water. It had to be the one, dwarfing all the other ships in the harbor. Tulio moved ahead to catch up with Alano.

"Hey, I think we found it," Tulio said when Alano had stopped.

Instead of answering with some smart-aleck comment, Alano simply nodded and changed his course. 'Must be getting a little nervous,' Tulio thought to himself.

As they got closer to the ship, the crowed thinned and they were able to see a table set up in front of the gangplank. Sitting at the table was a well-dressed middle aged man whose eyes were constantly moving, and attached to it was a neatly lettered sign that read: "Crewmen wanted – Skillful, Capable, Intelligent, Honest". Miguel nudged his friends and pointed at the sign.

"I guess that rules us out," he snickered.

"Ssshhh," Alano whispered, glancing at the table attended to make sure he hadn't heard, despite the fact that they were still a dozen feet away on the noisy dock.

Miguel and Tulio exchanged a confused look.

"Let's get this over with, then," Tulio said, gesturing for Alano to lead the way.

As they approached the table, the attendant stood up.

"Ah, my good gentlemen!" he called, causing the trio to stop and look behind them to see who he was addressing.

"I mean you three, good sirs!" he said, coming around the table.

They approached him suspiciously.

"You three look like strapping young men!" he said with a very wide artificial smile.

Alano was now staring at him, bewildered. Tulio nudged him slightly. When he didn't respond, Tulio quickly decided that Alano was no longer in charge here.

"We were hoping to- " Tulio began, but the man cut him off.

"My name is Hector. I'm the first mate aboard this fine vessel, the Santiago."

Hector looked at them expectantly.

"Um, hi. We're- "

"You've probably heard of Captain Juan Ponce de Leon, noble Spanish explorer?"

"Uh, yeah, actually we- "

"This happens to be his ship."

"We figured."

"In just one short day we set sail on a historic voyage."

Hector paused but Tulio didn't bother trying to say anything. Hector took another breath and continued.

"And it just so happens that we have a few more openings on our prestigious crew. You look like just the sort of men we're interested in."

This caught them all off-guard. Hector still pressed on with his prepared speech.

"So, would you three be interested in a well paying job helping to make history?"

The three exchanged a final look of surprise.

"Absolutely, we would!" Tulio said, hardly believing what had just happened.

"Excellent!" Hector exclaimed. He thrust a roster and a quill at Tulio. "Sign here."

He turned his head and bellowed over his shoulder, "Jerry! Report!"

Tulio signed his name and passed the roster and quill to Miguel.

"You are sailors, aren't you?" Hector said quickly as Miguel signed his name.

"Oh yeah, absolutely," Miguel replied, passing the items to Alano.

"Good. Jerry!" Hector bellowed again.

A moment later a small, wiry man appeared at his elbow.

"Yessir?" he said, looking up at Hector from his slightly stooped posture.

"Jerry, take our new crewmates aboard and give 'em the rundown," Hector said in a much less formal tone.

"Aye, sir," Jerry said.

Hector held his hand out to take the roster back from Alano, who had been staring blankly at it. Alano quickly scribbled his name and handed it back to Hector. Hector glanced down at it.

"Very well, Senor Alano, Senor Miguel, Senor Jo…Fo…Fu- "

"Tulio."

"Oh, that's what that says?"

Miguel laughed.

"Very well, and Senor Tulio. Welcome aboard."

Hector bowed slightly and returned to his place behind the table, presumably to wait for more new recruits.

"Well gents, follow me," the man called Jerry said.

Still slightly amazed at their good fortune, they followed him, expecting to go up the gangplank onto the Santiago. They were quite surprised when Jerry walked straight past it and kept going, but not wanting to put their new jobs in jeopardy yet, they didn't question him. He kept walking and led them to a small, dingy looking ship that was anchored right next to the Santiago. The Santiago was so grand that they hadn't even noticed the second ship moored in its shadow. Jerry paused at the base of the questionable looking gangplank. He gestured for them to precede him onto the ship.

"Welcome to the Diggem," he said with a wave of his hand.

"But…I thought we were supposed to sail on Senor Ponce's crew," Tulio said, looking skeptically at the ship.

"And y'are," Jerry said, "in a roundabout way. The Diggem is Senor Ponce's supply ship."

Miguel raised his eyebrows questioningly at Tulio. Alano, the supposed mastermind of this plan, remained as silent as he had been throughout, staring at the ship.

"The Santiago has a full crew. The Diggem still needs part," Jerry said. "You lot signed up, so…all aboard!"

He gestured at the ramp again. Miguel glanced at Tulio once more, shrugged and walked up the ramp with a grin. Tulio started up after him but stopped halfway when he realized Alano wasn't following him. He went back down the ramp and stood in front of the younger man, interrupting his gaze at the ship.

"You coming?" he said brusquely.

Alano's eyes slid from the ship to Tulio's face.

"Yes," he said defiantly.

"Good. Let's go, then," Tulio said, surprised.

They boarded the ship with Jerry behind them. When they reached the top of the gangplank they saw Miguel standing in the middle of the deck, looking around with an amused expression.

The reason for this expression was quite obvious. The deck was as battered as the outside of the ship appeared. The parts of the deck that weren't covered with barrels and crates were cracked and stained in a variety of colors. The mast and railings looked as though something had been chewing on them.

"Well, here it is. There's the quarter deck, fo'castle, hold," Jerry said, pointing at the various parts of the ship. "Might as well claim your hammocks. I think there's a few more crew members around. Or not. Probably be sendin' a few more along before the day's out."

Tulio nodded. Miguel was still looking around, close to laughter.

"Well then, get yourselves familiar with the ship. We sail at first tide tomorrow."

With that, Jerry nodded and went back down the gangplank, leaving the three of them standing in the middle of the main deck. Miguel and Tulio caught each other's eye and burst out laughing. After a moment, Alano joined in with a halfhearted chuckle.

"What's wrong with you, anyway?" Miguel asked him.

"I just don't know how I feel about being back on a boat yet," he replied, rubbing his chin.

"Well, once you figure that out, come pick your hammock," Tulio said. He dropped his voice. "We should figure out what we're doing before the rest of the crew shows up to overhear."

Miguel and Alano followed him into the forecastle. Three of the hammocks already had rucksacks in them but the owners were nowhere around.

"Oh dear, we forgot to pack!" said Miguel, seeing the luggage.

Tulio rolled his eyes.

"Hey, that was funny," Miguel said, shoving Alano.

Alano smiled and pushed him back. "You better have packed the map, at least," he said.

"Oh, I did," Miguel said, patting his pocket. "And my trusty dagger!"

He unsheathed the old dagger dramatically.

"Yes, that'll help if we run into some dangerous hair," Tulio said, dropping into a vacant hammock. "Now, to business."

"To business!" Miguel cheered, brandishing the dagger.

"Don't make me take it away," Tulio said.

Miguel resheathed the knife, pouting. "Fine. Get on with it, then."

He chose a hammock and sat down in it. Alano followed suit. They looked expectantly at Tulio.

"So…the plan?" Miguel said, after a few moments' silence.

"Right. The plan. We snoop around 'til we hear where about we're going to land, then we figure out where on our map that is."

Miguel nodded encouragingly.

"Then we…sneak off and follow the map to the fountain," Tulio finished rather lamely.

"So basically exactly what we thought we were gonna do before we had a plan?" Alano said.

Tulio frowned. "Yeah…well, do you have a better one?"

"No, just asking," Alano replied, stretching out in his hammock, ready for a nap.

Tulio looked at Miguel. "Is that OK with you?"

Miguel grinned. "Fine with me. Not like our plans ever work out anyway!" he said.

Tulio chuckled. "Good."

He lay back as well, also ready for a nap.

"You're not gonna come explore the ship?" Miguel said.

"I have a feeling there will be plenty of time for that later," Tulio yawned.

"Fine," Miguel said, and walked away, mumbling something about "no fun".

He left the forecastle and made his way down into the cargo hold, which was jammed full of crates, barrels and other bundles. The sun had begun to set while they were discussing the "plan" so there was not enough light to see properly in the cargo hold. He was headed back up to the deck, hoping to find a lantern when voices reached him through the semidarkness. He stuck his head out of the hold and saw three people on the deck. The other crew members, maybe. One of them was talking.

"All I'm saying is, this small a crew, it's not gonna be good."

A woman's voice. A nasally woman's voice.

One of the others responded but Miguel didn't hear. He was too busy feeling slightly nauseous from the familiarity of the first voice. He climbed the rest of the way out of the hold, hoping he was wrong about the speaker.

One of the other people lit a lamp and he was able to see them more clearly. The speaker was facing away from him but he was sure he recognized the long black hair. And the ample lower half.

"This is gonna be a disaster," she said.

'Yes, Chel,' he thought, 'it probably is.'

* * *

_Yup, I named my ship after the Honey Smacks cereal frog...haha.Pretty yummy stuff. __Happy (a few days early) St. Patrick's Day to everyone out there! Be safe andbe merry!:) _


	9. Chapter 9

Miguel stood quietly in the dark, staring at Chel. The woman who had ruined everything.

Twice.

He wondered how many more lives she'd wrecked since then.

She probably keeps a tally.

And what would happen this time?

Things were just starting to feel like they were getting back to normal and now, this.

A little voice in the back of Miguel's mind whispered, "Fate." He shook his head hard to silence it. Believing in fate was only useful when it was working to your advantage. He leaned back against a crate and crossed his arms. Stupid woman.

At some point, after she had convinced Tulio to ditch him, _again_, he had decided she must be some kind of witch. She clearly had some kind of supernatural influence. Otherwise, why had Tulio fallen for her? Look at those thighs. And that voice! It just didn't add up. She must be evil.

"You thought she was hot once," the annoying little voice said.

"Shut up," said Miguel, apparently out loud, because Chel and her companions stopped talking and looked in his direction. He ducked down behind the crate he had been leaning on, hoping the darkness had concealed him.

Shortly the others resumed talking, apparently deciding they were hearing things, and Miguel was relieved. He didn't know what he'd say to Chel when the time came, but given his current train of thought, it was likely to include a few swear words. Probably more than a few, actually, now that he'd started thinking about what had actually happened. That was a fun one.

After wandering around the New World for a while, still happy and fresh off their adventure, they'd managed to find their way to some kind of civilization and bartered passage on a ship that was headed for Spain. The trip home had been fine, almost pleasant, but the minute their feet touched the dock in Valencia, Chel started whining that she wanted to explore.

"I want to see Spain!" she had announced.

See Spain? Why? Miguel had seen Spain. It wasn't that exciting. But Chel wanted to.

"Tulio, I want you to show me Spain!" she had said, and Tulio had looked at her in "that way," which Miguel knew meant trouble.

Still, he agreed to travel around, not having anything better to do. But when he'd woken up the next morning, Chel had worked her magic and the traveling had begun without him. He hadn't bothered to figure out which way they had gone. He didn't care. He'd just hitched up Altivo and headed home. And wound up in jail a few months later. What a bitch.

Miguel walked quietly back into the forecastle. He didn't want to be the first to confront Chel. That honor should be Tulio's. He climbed into his hammock and waited. Someone would come in soon enough and the introductions would begin.

The long trek to Barcelona had apparently taken its toll; Miguel must have nodded off, because he was startled awake by Chel shrieking, "What are you doing here?"

Miguel stretched his arms and leaned back in the dim lantern light. This should be interesting. Tulio opened his eyes groggily.

"Whaa? Oh, _mierda_."

Yes, Tulio had recognized Chel in the semi-dark. Miguel bit his lip to keep from laughing at the comical look on Tulio's face.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she screamed again, louder this time.

There was a yelp and a loud thud, followed by Alano's curses. These mingled with Tulio's and Chel's voices and soon the forecastle was too loud to fake sleep any longer. Miguel sat up. Tulio and Chel were too bus arguing to notice. Chel's companions, apparently uninterested, had retreated to their hammocks.

Alano recovered from his surprise awakening and came over to sit next to Miguel. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Chel was now yelling at Tulio. She was using a language Miguel had never heard before, but she sounded really angry. A lot angrier than someone who "took off" should sound.

Miguel shook his head. "I really don't."

* * *

_Wow, I can't believe it took me so long to update this. Actually, yes I can. But I have some good excuse... went to Europe, had a 15 page research paper to write, and best of all, I had this chapter entirely written in a longer and better form and I THREW IT AWAY. Yes, literally right in the trash. That's what I get for writing in a school notebook and not looking at what I'm throwing out. So, appy-polly-logies for making you all wait so long for such a short chapter. Better next time, I promise!_


	10. Chapter 10

After a few more minutes when it seemed like no punches were going to be thrown, Alano returned to his hammock

After a few more minutes when it seemed like no punches were going to be thrown, Alano returned to his hammock. Miguel was also growing weary of the ruckus and was starting to wish they'd shut up or move outside. Tulio had begun to argue back, but the bad acoustics in the forecastle combined with the loud snores of one of Chel's companions (who had wandered in after her and managed to pass right out despite the noise) made it impossible to hear what was being said.

Miguel grew more annoyed as they continued bickering and was about to tell them to shut it when Chel whirled around abruptly and stalked out of the forecastle. Tulio made a jerky movement as though he were about to go after her, but stopped. He looked across the dim cabin at Miguel. Their eyes met. Miguel opened his mouth to say something but Tulio gave a quick shake of his head, laid back in his hammock and rolled over to face the wall.

"What was that all about?" came Alano's amused voice from inside his hammock.

His only answer was a loud snuffle from one of the other sailors.

Miguel was awakened the next morning by a loud clanging bell and a deep voice calling,

"All hands! All hands!"

For a moment he lay there, trying to remember where he was. The forecastle was still very dim but the sparse light now had a gray pre-dawn-ish quality to it, filtering in through the small doorway that currently stood open to the deck. Recalling his circumstances, Miguel climbed ungracefully from his hammock, sore and stiff from sleeping in such an unfamiliar position. He stumbled out onto the dewy, foggy deck to find everyone else already assembled. Alano was looking impossibly chipper for the given hour. Tulio looked much like Miguel himself felt. Chel was standing off to the side, arms crossed, looking anywhere but at Tulio. Standing at the watch bell was a large middle-aged man and there were four other anonymous sailors gathered as well. Apparently Hector had found a few others to join the crew before the last minute.

"OK, men!" the man at the bell said in his baritone voice.

Chel rolled her eyes and gave her hair a little toss. She was clearly feeling haughty today.

"OK, men," he repeated, "I'm Juan Gerard, and for what it's worth, I'm in charge of this vessel."

Most of the assembled crew nodded.

"Senor Hector has given me our instructions, such as they are, and we set sail immediately. So, heave to!"

Gerard gave a curt nod as though he expected them to spring into action. No one moved.

"What's our heading?" Alano piped up.

Gerard frowned. "Oh. As to that…we'll be needing a lookout on the foredeck at all times. We're to follow the Santiago. You." He pointed to one of the men Miguel hadn't seen before. "Take the first watch."

The man looked bemused but nodded and walked fore to take the indicated place. Gerard watched him go then looked back at the rest of the crew.

"Go to it!"

It now occurred to Miguel that he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do, now that they were actually on the ship. Luckily, Alano seemed to know exactly what to do.

"Come on," Alano said quietly as he passed Miguel and Tulio.

Relieved, they followed him. Miguel glanced quickly back over his shoulder and saw that Chel was following another sailor in the opposite direction, looking equally as lost. At least if something went horribly wrong it couldn't be blamed entirely on them, he thought.

They worked for the better part of an hour, not talking but following Alano's whispered instructions. Around them, the other sailors, the real sailors, were chatting as they worked.

When they were clear of the harbor at last, Gerard clanged the bell again to call them back together. That was going to get old real fast, Miguel thought.

"OK. Now…I know we have a small crew but…we have a small ship, so…OK."

It was clear this man didn't have a lot of leadership experience.

"So…we'll split into two watches. You four," he pointed at the four left-most crew members, "are watch one. You four, watch two."

Miguel glanced around and was happy to find himself, Tulio and Alano all on watch two. Mercifully, Chel was on the other watch. The fourth member of their watch turned toward them. Miguel thought he looked to be about his and Tulio's age, though his skin was rather weather-worn, so it was difficult to be sure. He introduced himself as Don, and seemed pleasant enough.

Gerard ordered watch one to "do some work," leaving watch two free to do what they pleased. Normally, off-watches would be spent catching up on sleep or relaxing but as they had just recently woken up, they milled around the deck rather aimlessly, looking for something to do. Shortly Tulio and Alano set off to find the galley and Don found himself a comfortable sunning spot on the quarterdeck, leaving Miguel alone.

He wandered toward the bow where he leaned on a railing and looked out at the sea, at the back of the Santiago, then around at the vast expanse of blue. Finally, they were doing something. They may not really know _what_ they were doing, but it felt good to have a purpose. He breathed deep, enjoying the moist salty air, and smiled. They were on their way.

Someone was dragging a coil of rope across the deck behind him and, not paying attention, bumped into him. He automatically turned his head to look at his disturber.

"Oh, hello Miguel," Chel said in a flat voice.

"Hi," he replied in the same tone.

Oh yeah. Her.

* * *

_Happy summer, everyone!! This chapter goes out with special thanks to DDSRG, Hoddmimirswoods, kalina ar' mori, The Unbreakable Snape Fan, pookturtles and everyone else who has been so fantastic as to review my story and encourage me to write more! Thanks a bunch!! :)_


	11. Chapter 11

Chel looked at him coldly for a moment

Chel looked at him coldly for a moment. Her mouth twitched as though she were about to say something, but then she turned away from him and continued on. Miguel was quite relieved. He had been largely avoiding thinking about the whole "Chel Issue" and wanted to keep it that way.

Fortunately, after their first brief encounter, Miguel and Chel rarely had to see each other. Being on opposite watches, they would pass each other a few times a day near the forecastle door but almost entirely ignored each other, much to Miguel's pleasure. He didn't like confrontations as a general rule, so he was mostly content to pretend Chel didn't exist. Even more to his relief, Chel and Tulio had also evidently decided to ignore each other.

Without having to worry much about Chel, Miguel found it rather enjoyable to be at sea. He and Tulio were catching on fast to the job routine, and Alano was a surprisingly good teacher. Not that their work was very complicated anyway. As long as they had the Santiago in their sights, all they had to do was follow her and keep the boat from falling apart.

Within a few days, they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Sleep-wake up-work-relax-work-sleep. While they were working, they chatted with each other. Don, the other man on their watch, was a life-long sailor who loved to tell stories of his voyages. He often traded tales with Alano, who had quite a few of his own to tell from his time at sea. Sometimes Miguel doubted their authenticity. Given Alano's young age, he had only spent a handful of years at sea, seemingly not enough to rack up so many stories. Then again, the lad could spin a good yarn, so Miguel never questioned him on it.

Miguel generally spent the off-watches when he wasn't sleeping lounging on the deck with Tulio. Sometimes they reminisced about old adventures, sometimes they whispered about the new plan, and sometimes they just sat quietly. If he weren't so excited about the map (that he always kept folded in his pocket) and their upcoming adventure, Miguel thought he'd be content to stay on this boat a very long time. A man could get used to this, he thought. He should have been suspicious. His tranquility never lasted long.

It was something like two weeks into the voyage (they hadn't been keeping track of the exact time since Gerard hadn't been able to give them an estimate of the duration of the crossing anyway) when Miguel woke up one morning to find the sun had forgotten to rise.

He generally woke to the sound of the watch bell to see the forecastle door open with the morning sun coming through. Today when the bell roused him, he opened his eyes to almost total darkness. There was no urgent clanging of the bell to call all hands, just the usual call to watch, so it couldn't still be nighttime. Must be the door was still shut. Miguel groped his way out of his hammock, still muddled by sleep, and heard his watchmates doing the same. With a lot of stumbling and some cursing, he made it to the door. He reached out to pull it open and his hand found only empty air. As his eyes adjusted to being awake, he realized the door was already open. The sky outside was full of dark rolling clouds.

"Uh-oh," he heard someone behind him say.

He turned around. Tulio had made it to the door, rubbing his knee where he'd bashed it into something in the dark cabin.

"This doesn't look promising," Tulio said.

They stepped aside as the members of the other watch filed past into the forecastle, ready for sleep. They looked miserable. Stepping out onto the deck, Miguel could immediately tell why. It was _cold._ For someone used to (and dressed for) a fairly warm climate, it felt like it was freezing. Tulio came out behind him muttering something about a brass monkey.

"Over here!" Gerard called. He was standing at the watch bell. Ad they crossed the deck, Miguel looked up. The sky, a menacing dark gray, looked almost like it was boiling but below it the sails hung completely limp.

"We're in for some difficult weather," Gerard said when they had assembled. "Best we can do is hope to ride through it."

Miguel exchanged looks with Tulio and Alano. The chances of this wreck being able to ride through much of anything seemed quite slim.

"Most important," Gerard continued, "is to not lose sight of the Santiago. One of you for at all times on the lookout. The rest, well…you know what to do."

Gerard walked away. Yeah, Miguel thought, they had a vague idea what to do. Very vague. And that idea was to not cause the boat to sink. Alano headed fore to take the first shift at lookout. As he moved away from them, a low rumble of thunder started. It crescendo-ed until it suddenly gave an almighty bang that would've made Miguel jump out of his shoes if he were wearing any.

He looked up and a giant raindrop hit him square in the eye, followed by another. And another. A sudden gust of wind billowed the sails out with a loud snap and the ship lurched, sending Miguel stumbling against the railing. Steadying himself, he looked down at the water. It now matched the sky in color and texture. Lightning overhead. Another crash of thunder. Howling wind. The rain began driving down in sheets. Even louder than the storm was the sound of wood cracking and splintering but it was impossible to see where it was happening. The chaos was so loud Miguel could barely hear Gerard clanging the watch bell and screaming for all hands. Miguel tried to gain his footing on the already flooded deck and staggered toward the mast. He had no idea what to do but felt he must do something. Through the water that seemed to fill the air, he could see Tulio attempting the same. He tried to call to him but the wind whipped his voice back in his face. He staggered on, bending against the wind and squinting against the rain. So much for their peaceful voyage.

* * *

_Wow, it's been a long time! There's a longer chapter coming, but I wanted to get something posted to get myself back in the swing of things. Thanks for being so patient with me and my easily distractedness. Things have settled down a bit now, lifewise, so it's back to writing!_


	12. Chapter 12

As Miguel reached the mast, Alano appeared next to him, the wind nearly blowing him on by.

"We need to go aloft!" he shouted over the roar of the storm.

"What?" Miguel shouted back.

He had heard Alano but couldn't believe what he was saying. Alano pointed upwards.

"We need to cut the sail free!" he shouted.

Miguel looked up, squinting against the rain and frequent lightning. The one of the large sails was thrashing about wildly in the wind, billowing out then crashing back against the mast. One of the ropes holding it in place had broken but the others held on. Each time the sail filled with air it was pulled forward violently, putting tremendous strain on the mast.

"It's splintering! We have to lose the sail or we'll lose the mast!" Alano shouted.

He grabbed the ratlines and began to scramble aloft, much quicker than Miguel would have thought possible in the raging storm. Miguel could hardly believe Alano was climbing into the rigging. It seemed like a place to avoid at a time like this. But it was obvious Alano couldn't manage the massive sail on his own. Miguel took a deep breath, choked a little on the rain, and followed after him. As he reached the ratlines Tulio finally made it to the mast. He staggered up to Miguel and grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?" Tulio yelled.

"Cutting the sail away!"

Tulio shook his head. "Let someone else do it!"

"Alano's up there!" Miguel protested. "He needs help!"

Tulio looked at him hard for a moment, then let go of his arm. Miguel turned into the ropes and began to climb. After struggling upward a few feet he looked downward and was surprised to see Tulio climbing up right behind him. Tulio gestured for him to keep going. Miguel climbed, stealing a glance down every couple of feet to make sure Tulio was still behind him.

After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the sail. Alano was above him, clinging to the yard with his legs and one hand. In his other hand was a knife that he was using to hack at a rope. Each time the wind blew the sail out, the rope pulled taut and Alano would chop at it. When the gusting wind died down for a second, the sail would collapse and Alano would grab hold of the yard and hang on to avoid getting knocked off. Miguel climbed up to the footropes to get a better look at what he was doing.

Observing Alano for a moment, Miguel thought he got the gist of what to do. Holding tightly to the ropes with one hand, he reached with the other for his trusty dagger but found his belt empty. Tulio had made good on his threats to confiscate it the night before when he had relentlessly insisted Tulio needed a haircut.

"Gimme my knife!" he shouted to Tulio, moving aside a bit so Tulio could join him on the footropes.

Tulio looked past him at Alano who was still out on the spar, cutting away ropes. He was nearly finished on that side. He looked behind him to the other side where the ropes were still in tact. They were having a hard enough time simply staying on the footropes in the storm. There was no way they could manage to switch positions to allow Miguel access to the ropes on the other side of the mast.

"I'll do it!" Tulio shouted.

Gritting his teeth against the driving rain, Tulio held on as tightly as he could to the spar and tried to inch out along the footropes. Each gust of wind sent his legs flying out from underneath him so only his arms draped over the spar were holding him up. That must be why Alano was on the yard itself. Tulio hoisted himself up and crawled along the yard. Alano, having finished his side, shimmied back toward the mast. He squinted through the rain, trying to see Tulio.

"Cut the furthest ones first!" Alano shouted, having realized Tulio was up there to help. His words were thrown back in his face by the wind.

Tulio reached the nearest rope. He carefully extracted the dagger from his belt. He waited, as he had seen Alano do, until the sail billowed out. He raised the dagger, hoping it was sharp enough.

"Wait!" Alano screamed, but Tulio couldn't hear him. He drew the knife across the taut rope and the fibers exploded part. He inched along a little further and cut the second rope with similar ease.

That's when all hell broke loose.

The heavy canvas sail, now being held on by only a few ropes, began to flail about violently. It snapped back, knocking the dagger from Tulio's hand. Tulio clung to the spar for dear life. The sail whipped against him, bruising and cutting his skin. As soon as the wind lessened for a second, he scooted backward toward the mast and Miguel's outstretched arm. As another gust swept past and he held stock-still, clutching the wood beneath him, he craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Miguel and realized Miguel's arm was not stretched toward him but toward Alano, who had been knocked off the yard by the flailing sail and had somehow managed to catch himself in the tangled shrouds.

As the ship pitched and rolled wildly Tulio tried to inch back toward safety but found himself unable to move. He watched, horrified, as Miguel wrapped his legs around the mast and reached both arms toward his stranded friend. One had pitch of the ship and he'd surely lose his grip on the slippery wood. Tulio willed himself to move, to help them, and managed to force himself along.

The ship did pitch, hard. But for once, it worked to their advantage. It propelled Tulio along the spar toward the mast while helping Miguel to lean and stretch just enough to grab Alano's arms. The two men grabbed each other's wrists. Tulio planted his feet on the footropes, hooked one arm around the yard and grabbed the back of Miguel's soaking shirt with the other, helping to haul Alano back up so he could grab hold of the yard. Alano clung to it for a moment, eyes wide, panting. They all held tight, reluctant to move but he ship gave another pitch, as though trying to shake them off. That was motivation enough and they descended as quickly as possible.

As Miguel's feet hit the deck, there was a loud cracking sound overhead. He looked up sharply to see the offending sail whipping off into the darkness, taking part of the spar with it. At least they'd saved the mast. Tulio and Alano reached the deck safely after him but there was no time to reflect on what had happened aloft. Not while the storm raged on. Alano hurried off in one direction, as fast as he could in the maelstrom, and Miguel and Tulio headed in another, looking for ways to further batten down the ship in hopes of riding out the storm. Cargo tumbled back and forth across the deck with each movement of the ship, having come loose from its precarious piles. People often tumbled by as well. They were all shouting but no sound other than the storm's rage could be heard.

Miguel had no idea how long it lasted. It could have been hours. It seemed like days. When finally the storm abated enough that it was possible to make your way across the deck without being thrown, the crew straggled together on the battered quarterdeck. Thunder still rumbled in the distance and the wind was trying to get in a few last gusts, but the rain had almost stopped entirely and the sea was no longer climbing up the sides of the ship. Miguel looked around. If the ship had looked ready to fall apart before the storm, it must now be seconds away from sinking, he thought. No sails remained. They had all been either cut away or had ripped themselves free. The mast looked crooked, as though sagging with fatigue, and smashed bits of wood, cargo, tatters of rope and sail littered the puddled deck.

When everyone had gathered, they looked expectantly toward the watch bell, waiting for Gerard to issue orders. The bell clanged itself in a gust of wind. Gerard was nowhere to be seen. Looking past where he should be standing, Miguel noticed an even bigger problem.

No Santiago.

* * *

_Once again, I'd just like to say thank you so much for all your reviews! I know I'm kind of a slow updater but they've really helped motivate me. xoxo and all that cutesy stuff. _


	13. Chapter 13

"'Follow the Santiago!'" Chel raged a little while later. "He was serious!"

She threw a cigar box across the small captain's cabin they were currently ransacking. It hit the wall and its contents burst out.

"That really was it!" she stormed, knocking a book to the ground.

After it became clear Gerard was no longer on board, Miguel and Tulio had headed to his cabin accompanied by Alano and Chel, hoping to find navigational charts or at least some kind of information regarding their voyage. They had assumed, given the grand nature of their mission and the fact that they were just running the supply ship, that Gerard has been instructed by _his_ captain, Ponce de Leon, to keep the actual maps to himself and only tell his crew to follow the Santiago.

As it had turned out, Gerard was sailing as blind as the rest of them were. They had entered his cabin and quickly located an elegant leather portfolio with the Santiago's seal on it. Relieved, they had opened it and found only one piece of parchment inside, bearing the words, 'Follow _Santiago_. Post watch at all times. Do not lose visual.' Beneath that were several elaborate signatures and stamps.

They had all stared at it in disbelief for a moment. Then Chel had begun throwing things.

"I can't believe it!" she yelled.

Miguel ducked as a candlestick whizzed past his head.

"There's nothing here," Tulio said, slamming a drawer roughly in frustration.

Chel made a noise somewhere between a growl and a shriek and overturned a small night stand then sat down on the bed. She sighed loudly.

"Well, I feel better," she said calmly, looking up at the others.

The cabin fell silent. Alano, unfamiliar with Chel's temperament, was staring at her with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Chel caught him staring.

"What?" she said.

Alano shook his head quickly and turned away, catching Miguel's eye in the process. Miguel fought a smile. He _may_ have mentioned a few things about Chel's personality to Alano. Whether Miguel had exaggerated or not, Alano didn't stick around to find out. He headed for the door. Chel shifted her gaze to Miguel and Tulio.

"So now what do we do?" she said, almost politely.

"You – you're asking me?" Tulio said, startled.

"You or him," Chel said, indicating Miguel. "You guys have all the plans, don't you?"

Miguel raised his eyebrows. He was unnerved by Chel's sudden willingness to interact. And what did she mean by 'having the plans'? Had she overheard something? Or had Tulio been speaking to her when Miguel wasn't around?

"What makes you think we have a plan?" he asked suspiciously.

Chel shrugged. "I dunno. You always do," she said.

Miguel was unsure how to respond. Yes, they did have a plan but no, she was not part of it.

"Well…we don't this time," Miguel said.

The chaos of the day may have, for some reason, made Chel willing to cooperate, but he wasn't ready to play nice yet. In fact, her sudden pleasantness was irritating him immensely. It was Chel's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Miguel, I don't believe that for one second."

She smirked.

"You don't expect me to think for one moment that the two of you just _happened_ to be in Barcelona, just _happened_ to suddenly desire a career in sailing and just _happened_ to wind up on _this_ voyage, do you?"

She laughed. A shrill little giggle. She looked up at him with a smug expression, apparently proud of herself for figuring something out. Miguel was overcome with a desire to throw something as she had been doing moments before. Preferably at her.

"Well actually Chel, I _had_ kind of hoped you'd think that," he said bitterly. "Actually, I kind of assumed you would be dumb enough to."

Chel's face instantly morphed from smug to angry. She stood up.

"Dumb enough?!" she said, stepping forward. Miguel didn't move.

"Yeah," he said, looking at her levelly.

"Ha!" she said angrily. "_I'm_ the dumb one?"

"You said it."

Chel took another step forward so she was directly in front of him. Her eyes were bright.

"Tell me how _I'm_ the dumb one, I'm the stupid one, when you're the one who turned up here with _HIM_?" she cried, gesturing at Tulio.

She laughed bitterly. "At least I'd never be dumb enough to take him back!"

She brushed past him, out the door.

Miguel stared after her, trying to process what had just happened. 'Dumb enough to take him back'? The phrase had exploded out of Chel as though she'd been wanting to say it for a while.

He turned toward Tulio, who had been watching the confrontation from the corner of the ruined cabin, looking bewildered.

"What's she talking about?" Miguel asked quietly.

"Mmm…I dunno. She's nuts…" he said unconvincingly, making eye contact with the ground near Miguel's feet.

Miguel looked at him hard. "Tulio?"

Tulio looked up but didn't meet his eyes.

"Okay. So…maybe she didn't exactly run off on me, but, I mean, I was on my way back…" he trailed off.

"Back to where?" Miguel prompted.

"To you?" Tulio said hopefully, looking up.

Miguel's chest filled with happiness for a brief second. Then he caught that look in Tulio's eye that he knew all too well. The "please believe me" look. His happiness quickly dissolved.

"Back to me?" he said quietly.

"Yeah," Tulio nodded.

"And that took six months?" Miguel said coldly.

Tulio looked down again.

"Roughly," he said, examining his hands.

Suddenly, he couldn't say how except that he knew Tulio just that well, Miguel understood.

"What was this one's name?" he said waspishly.

Tulio looked trapped. He bit his lip for a moment. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door to the cabin banged open. Alano strode in, looking harassed.

"Look guys, they're going nuts up there. Chel's got them all riled up – " he stopped short, seeing Miguel and Tulio. "Uhh…should I come back later?"

Miguel glared at Tulio.

"No," he said to Alano, his eyes never leaving Tulio's face. "Tell them we have a chart."

Miguel strode from the room, leaving behind him a stunned silence.


	14. Chapter 14

Tulio stared after Miguel. His mind was already so busy trying to come up with some kind of explanation, something to say to him, that the words Miguel spoke as he left the room didn't quite register at first. Then something clicked into place. 'We have a chart.'

"Miguel, wait!" Tulio called, starting after him. He couldn't be serious. He wasn't going to share their map with the rest of the crew, was he? It was _theirs_. It was their big adventure. The big adventure that was supposed to be Tulio's desperately needed (now more desperately than ever) saving grace.

He rushed from the cabin, toward the quarterdeck where the rest of the crew was gathered. Alano was speaking.

"...but Chel is right, we tore apart the captain's cabin, and it looks like Gerard didn't have any official maps."

Miguel was standing next to Alano, a folded up piece of parchment in his hand. He hadn't shown them yet. Tulio grabbed his arm. Miguel shook it off, not looking at him. The crew began grumbling, abusing the missing captain and the missing captain's boss for their lack of planning, judgment, intelligence, hygiene, etc. Alano threw in the occasional "Yeah!" and "That's right!" just to urge them on. Ever dramatic, he wanted them good and disgusted with the former regime before they gave up the good news. Tulio leaned close to Miguel.

He whispered urgently, "Miguel, please, don't show them the map. I promise I'll explain everything later and you can be as mad at me as you want but please, don't give them the map. It's the one thing we have left."

Miguel turned toward him slowly. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were blazing. He spoke above a whisper, but not loud enough to be heard over the rabbling of crew.

"Exactly. This map was what we had left, you and I. And I'm not interested in having 'you and I' anymore."

Miguel's words were spoken hotly but they caused a stab of ice to shoot through Tulio's guts. Never before had Miguel said anything like that. There had been various incarnations of "I'm very angry at you" spoken or shouted or growled at him in the past, but they always involved 'I' and 'you', which was what Miguel sounded very serious about putting an end to at this moment.

He turned away from Tulio and took a step toward the crowd. Alano had them stirred up well now.

"Wait!" Miguel shouted, raising his arms, the folded map in one hand. "Hang on!"

The crew quieted down. Tulio sank back toward the wall of the forecastle.

"We do not have an official map! But..." Miguel waved his hand containing the parchment. "we have something, shall we call, 'unofficial', that I don't think Gerard was planning on sharing with us!"

Alano smiled at his tactic. They'd be more likely to believe the map was real if they thought Gerard had been hiding it from them than if they knew it suddenly surfaced from a random sailor's pocket.

From his place in the shadows, Tulio watched as Miguel slowly unfolded the map before the interested eyes of the crew. They each leaned forward eagerly to examine it. After a few seconds, Chel's eyes lifted from the map and met his across the deck. She raised her eyebrows, genuinely surprised. She must have recognized the style, having seen their El Dorado map back when they were all just...hanging out in a temple full of gold in a tropical paradise one afternoon. Tulio looked away quickly, not wanting to see the smug look that was starting to cross her face. He suddenly felt exhausted. He could hear the crew starting to mutter excitedly as he entered the forecastle. He threw himself down in his hammock in the dark cabin, pressed his hands over his face, and soon the intensity and chaos of the day caught up with him and he fell asleep.

On deck, the crew had finished their brief examination of the map and were now ready to debate it.

"Looks fake," was the opinion of one of Chel's watch-mates, a man called Cedric. The other remaining member of Chel's watch, a tall, dark-skinned man named Will, agreed. Their fourth watch-mate had failed to report after the storm settled and, like Gerard, was assumed to have been washed overboard.

"I believe it," Alano said, looking around at the others. "I can't believe this 'history making voyage' of Senor Leon's would have gone off with no maps whatsoever."

"But Gerard said the real maps were on the Santiago," Cedric countered.

"Yeah, he wanted us to think that. Of course he wouldn't be sharing the map with a bunch of supply ship sailors," Chel chimed in.

Alano nodded. "Right. But he also couldn't risk losing his supply ship. He needs what we're carrying when they get ashore, otherwise there would be no land expedition possible. We've got all their gear aboard."

"Well, he has lost us!" Will said.

"That's why we've got the map right here! We can catch up to them! They'll be waiting for us when we get to shore!" Alano argued.

Miguel had been quietly holding the map this whole time, relying on Alano's persuasion skills and the fact that Chel apparently was able to boss her watchmates around, to win the case for him. Don, the fourth member of his watch, had also been quiet. Cedric looked toward him now.

"What about you? You're an old salt, what d'you think?" he asked.

Don looked surprised at being addressed. He leaned forward and looked carefully at the map for a moment, then straightened up. "Well, I've been sailing a lot of years, and heard a lot of legends. Treasure maps and wild chases..." He looked up and caught Miguel's eye. "...but this one, I reckon, looks legitimate."

The veteran sailor's words apparently satisfied the doubting crew members.

"Well, we haven't got anything else now, have we?" Will said, shrugging. "We might as well follow that, since we're lost anyway."

Nodding their assent, the crew began to disperse, sorely craving rest and food. Miguel stowed the map and caught up with Don on his way to the galley.

"Thanks, Don," he said.

Don nodded and smiled slightly. "Can't hurt nothin' to follow that map. Better than following nothin' at all."

* * *

_Just a short little chapter to get the wheels spinning again...hey, I've been almost a year, I needed to bang out something to get myself back into the swing of things!_


	15. Chapter 15

Once the crew had dispersed, Alano made his way back to Miguel's side.

"They bought it!" he whispered gleefully.

Miguel forced a small, brief smile.

"Tell me something, Al," Miguel said quietly. "Do you really believe this map is real?"

Alano considered this for a moment, looking away across the open water.

"You know, I'm not really sure. And I don't really care," he said, looking back at Miguel.

"You don't care?" Miguel repeated, confused.

Alano shook his head. "No, not really. The way you guys talked it up back at the storehouse, it seemed like such a great adventure that I decided it doesn't really matter whether it's real or not."

Miguel smirked cynically, but didn't respond. Alano continued.

"No, really. I mean, all the time I spent at the storehouse with you guys, all I heard about is all the great adventures you'd had. You told me plenty of stories yourself. Even when you and Tulio took off a while back, everyone else kept saying you must be off on another wild trip. When that map turned up, I figured it was finally my chance to join in on one of these grand jaunts."

"And how is it shaping up for you?" Miguel asked.

"Well, apart from the nearly falling to my death from the rigging, it's been great. And I figure near-death experiences are just part of the adventure, right?"

"I guess that's one way to look at it," Miguel said, still smirking.

Alano frowned at him.

"What's the problem, then? You've got the whole crew ready to follow your map, no captain to get in the way and try to make us do our actual job, and we get to take whatever route we want now rather than trying to get our bearings and sneak off once we landed with the Santiago, which, to be honest, was probably going to get us shot. I think this is going a lot better than planned."

Miguel considered this for a moment. Alano's grin had snuck back onto his face part way through his speech, and Miguel had to admit that his enthusiasm was catching. He found himself starting to smile in response.

"You know, Al, you're right. For once, something is going better than we planned. And this time, we've got more control over it."

Miguel pulled the map from his pocket and unfolded it. Alano moved around next to him to look at it. He pointed at some little markings on the side that Miguel hadn't noticed before.

"You see these?"

Miguel nodded.

"These are degree marks. I know I saw a compass and an astrolabe down in the captain's cabin, in that box of tools Chel knocked over. If she hasn't broken them, we can figure out where we are and set a course. It shouldn't be that difficult once we figure out where the hell we ended up after the storm."

"So you just follow these little line thingies, and we can get here?" Miguel asked, indicating the X on the map that supposedly marked their goal.

"Well, I can definitely get us here," Alano replied, pointing to the shore. "If this piece of land exists, that is. Once we're on land, it'll be trickier, but if the compass survived Chel's wrath, we'll have a shot."

Miguel nodded, impressed. "So this might actually work?"

Alano laughed. "Well, if the map isn't legit then at least someone went through a lot of effort to make it look real. It's going to lead us somewhere, that's for sure. Whether it's to anything but a bunch of trees and rocks is anyone's guess."

It was Miguel's turn to laugh. "I hope it doesn't lead us to a really big rock," he said to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing...just, last time we found a big rock and...never mind."

But Alano seized the opportunity.

"Last time? With the flogging? What happened?" he asked, excitedly.

Miguel smiled. "Ah, no. That's a story for another day," he teased.

Alano groaned. "I'll get it out of you some day," he said.

Miguel shrugged. He looked out across the water, feeling much more optimistic than he had a little while ago.

"Thanks for the pep talk, Al," he said.

Alano smiled. "No problem. Hey, I'm gonna go see if the tools survived, and throw Chel overboard if they haven't."

Miguel chuckled but it was interrupted by a yawn.

"You look like you're about to fall over," Alano remarked.

"I could use a bit of sleep after all that, I guess," Miguel said through another yawn.

"Why don't you go to sleep then? You can give me the map and I'll see if I can find us a heading," Alano said.

Miguel hesitated.

"Unless you don't want to give it to me. You can hang on to it," Alano said, noticing his hesitation.

"No, no, take it," Miguel said, handing the map over quickly. "I was just wondering where I was going to sleep."

His hammock was right next to the hammock belonging to, and currently occupied by Tulio.

"You should sleep in the captain's cabin. I think you're effectively captain now, anyway," Alano said.

He saluted Miguel.

"Oh good. I like the sound of 'Captain Miguel.' You may call me 'Capitán'."

Alano shook his head. "I've created a monster. I'll grab the tools and be out of your way, Oh Capitán."

He walked away, headed toward the captain's cabin.

Miguel followed, really needing some sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Miguel woke with a start. He had no idea where he was. The bed beneath him was soft and the room was dark and very quiet. He knew instantly he wasn't in the forecastle. As he lay there with the silent, humid air pressing in on him, he slowly remembered where he was. Not in the forecastle with those coarse hammocks bending his back out of shape and the snoring of his crewmates making it difficult to sleep. No, he was in the captain's cabin. "I think you're effectively captain now," Alano had said. He smiled a little to himself, picturing himself standing at the helm in a grand outfit and a really big hat. He'd always wanted a really big hat.

But here he was in this comfortable cabin, all by himself. Why did it seem like he always ended up by himself? Even when things were going really well, it always wound down to just him, alone. Why? That part was easy. Because he trusted Tulio. And he kept on trusting Tulio. His smile faded. Well, that wasn't going to be the case anymore. He flopped his head back into the pillow, sighing. How many times had Tulio scampered off with some pretty little thing for a few days, or a few weeks? Even a month or two? Many more times than he cared to remember. And how many times had he, Miguel, done the same? Never. But Tulio had always come wandering back with an "I'm sorry" and some kind of excuse and Miguel had accepted it. Not this time, though. He was sick of being home base. Why should he be the one Tulio depended on to always be there waiting, when Tulio was never there for him?

Miguel sat up. He was too agitated now to go back to sleep. He wandered out onto the dark deck. He could see a tall silhouette of somebody at the railing, holding up a strange object. It was Alano. He had apparently found some navigational tools that had survived Chel's wrath. Miguel approached him.

"Any luck?" he said.

Alano jumped, nearly dropping the tool. "Ay, don't sneak up on me!" he exclaimed.

Miguel chuckled. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared," Alano said, turning toward him, "you just startled me, creeping up out of the incredibly eerie darkness like that."

"Well, sorry then, I didn't mean to _startle_ you."

"Alright, I'll forgive you," Alano said, smiling.

"Any luck figuring out where we are?" Miguel asked.

Alano smiled wider. He set the tool down on safely on the deck.

"Actually, yes," he said, spreading the map out against the rail. Miguel leaned in to get a better look. "The storm blew us in the right direction!"

"You're kidding," Miguel said, looking up at him. "Something actually went right?"

"Very right," Alano said, gesturing toward the map.

"From what I can tell, we were heading in the right general direction all along, when we were following the Santiago. When the storm came up, it blew us along in that same direction. I'm thinking the Santiago just got blown a lot faster, since it had so many more sails and a crew that actually, you know, knew how to sail. Since we were so far behind it already, I think it just got away from us. Which, of course, is to our advantage."

Miguel nodded. This was sounding good. He was surprised.

"From it's trajectory before we lost it, and a few things I heard Gerad say about the 'southern tip', I think the Santiago is trying to make land...here-ish."

Alano's finger traced the southwest edge of the skinny little landmass on the map. The peninsula stuck out into the open ocean and it's northern end joined a much larger landmass that filled the edges of the map. Their 'X' was about halfway up the peninsula, and slightly inland. An inset in the upper left corner of the map gave a more detailed look at the land they'd be crossing to get to their goal.

"So they're not headed where we are?" Miguel asked.

"Not really. Not unless they plan to take it from land down here." Alano said. His finger traced a land route from where the Santiago would land to where their X was.

"That would be stupid." Miguel pointed out.

"Yes. So we can only hope that _we_ are headed to the right spot and they're off."

Miguel agreed. He did not fancy having to trek far through the jungle, or whatever the gree stuff on the map was that covered this land. He also did not fancy crossing paths with the crew of the Santiago in said jungle, when they had taken off with their supply ship. No, that would probably not go well.

"So anyway," Alano said, tapping the map, "we're right about here."

He pointed at a seemingly arbitrary spot in the ocean. Miguel looked up at him again.

"That means nothing to me."

Alano chucked.

"It means, we're absolutely surrounded by water!"

Miguel stared at him blankly. He could tell that for himself.

"No, I'm just messing with you," Alano laughed. "It means we're about a week out."

"A week? That's it?"

Miguel was surprised. True, he had lost track of how long they'd been at sea, but the voyage hadn't seemed that long.

"Yes, Capitán, so you'd better start preparing your crew to make land!"


	17. Chapter 17

"Land, Ho!" Alano's voice rang out across the deck.

Miguel looked up from his place by the starboard rail. Alano was now scampering down the mast. Even with him being so high up, Miguel could see the grin on his tanned face. Miguel approached him as he dropped to the deck.

"I've always wanted to say that," he said through his grin, "Look!"

He pulled Miguel toward the bow of the boat, pointing out across the water. The rest of the watch was gathering there as well, having heard Alano's cry. Miguel squinted, trying to see what Alano was pointing at.

"Land...ho?" he said questioningly.

"Straight ahead!" Alano said, handing him the small telescope he'd been looking through. He raised it to his eye. After adjusting it a little, he saw a lot of blue. Water and sky. But in between the shades of blue, after a moment, he was just able to make out a greenish-gray line. Land.

"Land, ho!" he shouted happily. He passed the telescope around to the gathered crew. Each of them took turns looking through it and then celebrating. Being mid-day, most of those who were off watch were on deck also, and joined in the celebration.

"Land! Finally, I can get off this filthy ship!" Chel's voice cried out.

"You'll still be stuck with filthy us!" one of her watch-mates answered. Others laughed.

"Ok, settle down," Miguel called out. "We're still a few days off shore. And let us not forget, getting to land is the easy part of the voyage."

The crew groaned. Miguel laughed.

"Back to work!"

It had been a bit longer than a week since they revealed the map, so Alano's estimation hadn't been far off. The mood of the crew had remained up-beat. Well...mostly. Tulio had been keeping to himself, quietly going about his days. Miguel had tried to ignore him, telling himself that Tulio should be unhappy. He deserved to feel bad. He even tried convincing himself that Tulio was probably concocting some elaborate plan to take the map for himself, or to turn the crew against him, but he couldn't make himself believe that. Whatever selfish stunts Tulio pulled, he never did anything to intentionally hurt Miguel. Often enough, Miguel ended up hurt anyway, but Tulio would never be malicious toward him. Suffice to say, Miguel was having a very hard time ignoring the sad puppy character that was going about his ship.

He and Alano had been planning what they would do when they reached shore, so that helped serve as a distraction. For all this "Capitán Miguel" talk, Alano was the real one in charge here. Miguel deferred readily to the younger man, knowing nothing about sailing except what he had learned on this trip. He did, however, have some experience with jungle exploration, so the over land portion of their journey would be more in his realm of expertise.

Being only a few days out, they needed to cement their plan. They were in the captain's cabin, discussing for the umpteenth time what they thought they were going to run into when they got ashore. Alano kept repeating that just because the map showed green didn't mean it was a jungle, but something inside Miguel told him it was. What else could it be, anyway? Besides, Miguel thought if they prepared for the worst, which in his mind was a jungle, they would be ready to cross through any territory that little map could throw at them. Throughout the conversation, Miguel couldn't help but think there were two other people on this boat that would lend some valuable insight to the discussion. He satisfied himself with the fact that Tulio had no more experience than himself so he wouldn't be of any extra use, but another member of the crew had lived in a jungle setting her whole life. Who would know better how to travel, what they might run into, the best way to not get killed and/or eaten? And she really had been quite pleasant toward him for most of the journey...

"So, Capitán, you wanted to see me?" Chel said from the doorway of the cabin. She raised her eyebrows at him.


End file.
